cake is not a joking matter
by AzyumiChan
Summary: -Craig is such a dreaaaaaaaaaaaaaamy boyfriend     -Clyde, shut up.


He was _livid_. No, _frustrated as fuck_ was more like it. He didn't understand how a simple concept like baking a Betty Crocker cake would be, well, frankly _simple_. All he wanted to do was be an awesome boyfriend, **woo the crap** out the love of his life by making a cake and so forth, but fuck all, he should have invited Clyde over or something to help him with this shit. Craig mentally slapped himself across the face; Clyde was the last person that should help him in this project. That cheeky motherfucker would have probably made some ridiculous game of, "splatter overly sweetened cake batter over the pantries thus pissing off Craig's mother and pinning all the mess on her son."

He was looking at the end result in mute, blank horror. That cake looked like Satan's love child with a volcano's piece of shit. The cake was oddly morphed into a wormhole of some sort. Meaning, instead of rising, the cake looks like somebody punched it, burned the outside to a black crisp, and adding a horrible stench of enflamed sprinkles. Why did he think it was a good idea to put sprinkles on the motherfucking pan? How the fuck did he managed to get this insidious creation out of the oven before the house was set on fire?

Being the lazy ass he was, he went to the backyard and dumped the cake into the trash bins, still stuck inside the pan and all that, because there was no way he was going to do the impossible of scraping burnt cake off of a metal pan.

Slamming the screen door behind him, he paced back and forth in his kitchen in deep thought. He didn't have much time left to cook or bake anything decent. He barely has time to take a shower, much less clean the mess he made in the kitchen. The only good part of this day so far was that he managed to keep his present under wraps in his bedroom. It took him months of pre-planning, over-thinking, and out-right embarrassment when he swallowed his pride and asked his two best bros what the hell he should get for Tweek for their fourth year anniversary. Clyde was gushing and ripping on Craig on how much of a "sweet and _dreamy_ boyfriend" he was and Token… that motherfucker was so vague with his ideas that Craig just flipped them both off and went on his way to contemplate on Tweek's interests.

Craig knew it'd be stupid as hell to get something coffee-related. The kid literally lived inside a goddamned coffee house, so it would be pointless to buy him a coffee thermos when he already has five at his disposal.

Sometimes he ponders on what the hell Tweek has done to him. He has managed to break the black-haired punk's apathetic demeanor and tie him around his small, bony finger. But it didn't matter to Craig that he was practically whipped; Tweek was _**Tweek**_. Craig knew Tweek more than anyone else in South Park; he has managed to see every single, ugly, beautiful part of him for the past fourteen years. So why in bloody hell was it so hard for him to realize what to get for the twitchy punk till a newspaper smacked him on the face during a windy day?

The clacking of metal keys woke Craig up from his thought-process. He knew the familiar sound oh the wooden front door being opened and shut closed. He knew the sounds of worn combat boots being dumped on the carpet floor. He could tell his plan of sending Tweek on an errand run to buy groceries and pick up his medication did not give him enough time to finish his grand plan of an awesome-as-fuck anniversary.

"Craig! Sorry it took so long to get back from shopping! The line at the pharmacy was so long and it took forever to find that brand of shampoo I like and I met Christophe along the-"

Tweek stopped at mid track. He had a look of sheer horror but thank the lordy he was frightened enough only to clutch the large paper bag of groceries to his chest rather than dumping the delicate contents on the kitchen floor.

"Craig, why the fuck is there chocolate puss oozing out of the pantries?"

"One, It's not puss, it is chocolate cake batter. Two, it's not oozing; it's been splattered on the pantries.

"Like that makes a huge difference! W-wah, is this why you sent me off on a long winded shopping trip around the state? Just so you could make cake?"

Being the blunt asshole he was Craig could not control his instinctual urge to speak the truth. "Yes."

"_Why!_"

Craig paused, contemplating on the pros and cons of ignoring Tweek's question or answering it. He chose the ladder that wouldn't involve a huge screaming fit as a result. "I've decided to make a chocolate cake for you since your mom never makes that flavor because of her diet and you've said before that chocolate was your favorite and I tried but as you can see I created an apocalyptic mess."

Tweek's tensed shoulders drooped to an even calmness. He sighed and placed the groceries on napkin. The short blond put little effort into stifling his giggles. The awkward noirette flinched and blushed profusely. That's one of the few things he couldn't stand about himself: he was still a love-stricken mess when it came to Tweek.

Tweek wrapped his thin arms around his boyfriend and leaned his forehead against his collarbone. "Craig, this is so amazingly sweet and cheesy and corny; just like in those chick flicks you like to watch; but I don't want you hurting yourself or the kitchen and its appliances just to make me a present. Or worse, set your hair on fire because yours take a long time to grow."

"That wasn't your present though…"

The twitchy kid raised his head up with a perplexed look. "Then, what?"

And on cue, an excited corgi jumped up behind the living room couch and scampered towards the couple with excited delight.

"This punk needed a new home and I know you love dogs like I love Red Racer, so uh yeah. Happy anniversary, Tweek."

Craig flinched when his boyfriend made a strange gargle-like shriek, and then pounced on the taller teen with a wet kiss. Before Craig had time to kiss back, Tweek already rushed out to the living room to make adorable cooing sounds to the happy pup. Craig sighed and rushed out to the living room to play with the corgi soon to be dubbed Sir Kenzington Mcwhisterchyr and the love of his life.

THE END

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><p>This took forever to finish. And the only problem I had finishing was the last few paragraphs so I decided to make the ending as cheesy as possible lol<p> 


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